


The Only Ingredient

by Alex_Velgorio



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Bad Cooking, Baking, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cookies, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Flexible Lance (Voltron), Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), Hot Chocolate, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Klance Week, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Slow Burn, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:48:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28101921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_Velgorio/pseuds/Alex_Velgorio
Summary: Keith misses hot cocoa. Lance misses his family. What would unite them better than a kitchen full of utensils they didn't know the name of?
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Kudos: 22





	1. Only the Stars Know

**Author's Note:**

> My first Voltron fic! I decided to do Klance since I miss them. It's complete fluff, possibly some smut if I feel like it. Anyway, I was in the mood to write some easy cooking bonding. So now you all have to deal with it. 
> 
> Word Count: 1733

If Lance was being honest he lay awake in his bed more nights than not thinking about home. The beauty of the sun rising over his neighbors houses, the crunch of brittle seashells as he walked down the beaches, the constant blend of music, his mother's cooking in the kitchen. God, how he missed her cooking.

It was never really his thing but he loved just sitting at the table and watching his mama and sisters dance around the kitchen in their pajamas as they made all kinds of amazing goodies. He remembered his little brother covered in flour when he would try to help and the slow development to him knowing more about food than Lance. 

One memory seemed to stick more than the others: his sister's smile in the dead of night. Lance sitting on the kitchen counter and watching her make the same recipe every month for years. Always at the crack of dawn. The same ingredients, the same song sung softly between them, the same batter he always got to lick off of the spoons. 

Shark Cookies.

Every month, his sisters would get their-ah- _time of the month._ He would always be awake when their bodies woke them in the dead of night. So, just to keep them company if they wanted, he would sit next to them in the kitchen while they made Veronica's specialty cookies. She always swore they magically made all of the pain go away. Some shark cookies, a couple McDonald's fries for the salty craving, a couple Leonardo Dicaprio movies, and a heating pad. It was the MccLain remedy to any period problem.

The cookies were stuffed with chocolate chips, a splash of cinnamon, so much sugar it would melt your tongue, and a collection of spices that Lance could pick out by smell but never learned the name of. They melted in your mouth, a gush of soft warm goo that would make your eyes roll back. They were absolutely orgasmic. 

So, one late night, as Lance stared up at his ever boring ceiling, he decided he would make some. He might not get a period but the cookies were still good and no stupid gender thingy was gonna keep him from that, damnit!

He slipped his slippers on and wandered to the kitchen. The lights flicked on at his entry and he began aimlessly grabbing bowls and singing some Celia Cruz song that was buried deep into his memory.

Once he got out the bowls and all of the measuring stuff Hunk used, Lance realized he had no idea how to make shark cookies in space. Where were the eggs? Did he need to milk Kaltenecker? What was the space sugar called? 

Oh my god.

What if the Alteans didn't have chocolate chips. 

Before Lance could have a complete mental breakdown, someone came into the kitchen behind him. Lance barely had time to turn around before the not-so-subtle gruff of Keith's voice washed over him. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

It was too early for this and Lance was still flabbergasted by the fact that he may not be able to use chocolate chips. So, instead of being the polite gentleman his mama raised, he said, "It's the kitchen, Mullet. In case you haven't noticed, it's communal." 

There was a slight scoff before more shuffling into the kitchen and then Keith was next to him. "I was just wondering what you were doing here so late."

"Just..." What did he even say here? He didn't know if he could just randomly open up to Keith. "Just missed looking at these bowls, ya know? They're-uh-nice bowls."

Keith gave him an amused side eye before chuckling a bit and moving over to where the cups were kept. "Okay, Lance. Do you want me to leave you and your bowls alone?"

Lance laughed a bit, running his finger over the counter. "Well, we were very happy before you barged in and ruined everything."

By now Keith was leaning up against the counter with his arms crossed watching Lance's theatrics. "Is that so?"

"Of course it is! We were having a moment! A-"

"Bonding moment?"

Lance couldn't help but smile a bit. Keith just looked so cute at the moment. He had loose sweatpants on, his feet bare and a tank top thrown on backwards. His hair was pulled back into a tiny ponytail, only a shadow of bangs covering his forehead. He had that mischievous glint in his eye, a small smirk on his lips. 

But Lance wasn't staring. That would be ridiculous. 

"Yeah," Lance cleared his throat. "I guess you could call it that."

Keith smiled a bit before turning back to his cup. "So," He seemed to be contemplating his question before moving over to the counter Lance was at with all of his empty cookie bowls. "What were you going to make?"

Lance and Keith had grown closer over the course of battling evil Pokemon and what-not, but they had never spent an extended amount of time alone together. There was always someone there to watch, be a part of the conversation, train with them. It was never like this. Alone in a kitchen, the whole castle silent around their voices. Lance felt kind of exposed. He was completely covered and yet it felt like he was naked. Like Keith could glance over and see every secret he had.

Lance didn't want it to end.

"Cookies." He said.

Keith nodded. He seemed to absorb that. "You know how to make cookies with this stuff?" He gestured to the rest of the kitchen.

"Well, you see..." Lance chuckled a bit. 

"So you don't."

"What?" Lance recoiled. "Of course I do! Why would I try to make cookies if I didn't know how to make them! That's preposterous, Mullet, utterly preposterous." 

Keith shrugged, "Okay. You think you can help me find the shit to make cocoa?"

There was a pause. Maybe too long of a pause. 

"No I can not."

Keith blinked. "Why not?"

"Because."

"That's not an answer, Lance."

"Because I'm busy making my cookies, of course."

"So," Keith started. "If I helped you make your cookies would you help me make my cocoa?" He proposed. 

Lance thought for a moment. He would enjoy the company. It might be nice to bake with someone. Then again, he would prefer that person to be someone like Hunk or Allura. Maybe even Coran. They were like family. All of the paladins were. So why for some reason was Keith excluded from that? He still meant a lot to Lance, of course he did, but he didn't see Keith as a brother. He wasn't a father figure, that much was for sure. Maybe like an annoying cousin? The family dog you love to cuddle? But he and Keith had never cuddled. Would he want to cuddle with Keith? 

Before he could head down _that_ rabbit hole, Keith spoke again. "If you want to."

"Yeah Mullet. The more the merrier." Lance smiled across the table at him. "Go ahead and watch the magic happen."

Keith slides across the table so he was standing next to Lance. "Right. So what else do we need to make the magic happen, Sharpshooter?"

"Ahh...."

"You don't know where the stuff is either, do you?"

"If I say no, will you judge me?" Lance chuckled, tracing the bowl with his finger again. 

Keith laughed. He actually laughed. His head tipped forward, the back of his hand moving to cover his teeth as he smiled and squinted his eyes shut. Small, squeaky hiccup laughs erupted from his mouth. His shoulders bounced and his lungs seemed to spasm inside of him. Maybe Lance thought it was adorable, maybe he was sleep deprived. Who can say. 

"I can't judge you!" Keith said in between subsided giggles. "I don't know any of this either." Keith looked back up at him, "Maybe we can uh...figure it out together?"

Lance smiled. "Sounds like a plan, Mullet."

Who knows how much longer they sat in that kitchen sticking pinkies into things, pouring things into bowls, gagging, smiling, wondering if that's actually how it tastes or if it's just the mix between everything they've put in their mouth that night.

"Okay." Keith said, His hair still pulled up but a stern and serious look on his face. There was a sticky note on his back that said 'kick me'. There were matching sticky notes on a ton of containers that labeled them as the most Earth thing they could think of. Some of them were normal, "cinnamon" or weird as shit, "earwax and sunflower seeds". Who would ever put that in food, Lance didn't want to know.

"So far, we found cinnamon, nutmeg-"

"Allegedly nutmeg." Lance cut him off.

"I know what nutmeg tastes like, Lance."

"Sure you do, Mullet."

Keith sighed, a small smile on his lips. That had been happening a lot during the night. "Allegedly nutmeg, chocolate, flour and brown sugar."

Lance nodded. "The rest is weird alien shit."

Keith nudged him in the ribs. "You can't call that weird. You don't even like pickles."

"They're just cucumbers drowned in vinegar! It's disgusting!"

"You're disgusting."

"We both know that's a lie." Lance argued.

Another small smile, "Maybe."

Hunk stopped in the doorway, still in his pajamas. His hair was down but his eyes were awake. "Uh..."

"Hunk! My man! My buddy!" Lance said, jumping towards him. "Save me from this heathen!" Lance couldn't see Keith's face but he could see his face in his mind's eye clearly. The look of disgruntled shock. The wide eyes and screwed up brows. It made him chuckle just thinking about it.

"I'm gonna get some sleep." Keith said. Lance could hear him walk out of the kitchen, storming out of the room like a diva on a mission. Lance could understand that. He was a renowned diva after all.

"Sleep? How long have you two been here?" Hunk asked.

"Uh..." Lance couldn't remember. He didn't know what time Keith came in or what time he left. "All night, I guess."

"All night? Together? Alone?" Hunk said. Lance would have noticed the look of Pidge-ness on his face if he would have looked. Instead, his eyes were trained on the spot in the doorway where Keith just left.

  
"Yeah. All night."


	2. Maybe Someday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second time Keith and Lance meet in the kitchen. 
> 
> The world doesn't stop turning, but maybe it will pause tonight. Just for you and me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter woohoo!
> 
> I just want you guys to know that I do not have a posting schedule. I'll get to it when I get to it but hopefully the postings won't be too far apart for your sake.
> 
> I would also like to thank anyone who reads my god awful writing, it means so much to me. Mwah!
> 
> Word count: 1764
> 
> *Unedited*

Keith has always been a night owl. His mind is just constantly busy. If you asked him what he was thinking about, he couldn't tell you. Just an endless stream of blue eyes and broad shoulders that blocked his sleep. 

So he'd never tell you. Because that would be embarrassing and Keith doesn't do embarrassing. 

It had been a couple of days since the whole cookie/kitchen encounter with Lance. Keith wasn't thinking about it at all. Of course he wasn't thinking about how cute Lance might look with sleepy eyes and a tired grin. Or how he might look with his robe hugged around him as he told Keith how gross straight cinnamon was. That would be ridiculous. They're teammates. Friends, even. Ridiculous.

Now, as a narrator who is completely immune to any soft fluffiness in the story I can confidently tell you that Keith was in fact blushing as he walked to the kitchen. Of course, if this was Keith telling the story, that would not be the case. 

As Keith approached the doorway to the kitchen, a small sliver of dim golden light shining on the floor, he could faintly hear off-key humming. Nothing loud, obnoxious, or extra like you'd expect from Lance. Maybe that was why he was so taken a back when he saw the blue paladin slightly swaying his hips as he sang something in Spanish that Keith didn't understand. 

Almost like he was in a trance, Keith stopped. 

Lance stood with his back to him, unaware of the arguably creepy way that he was being watched. His lion slippers made soft scratching noises against the castle floor, a tight t-shirt that had small sweat stains around the neck hugged his back in a way that was honestly illegal. Space illegal. Call the space cops. Well, weren't they space cops? That's besides the point.

The tempo of whatever song Lance was singing began to pick up and it brought his body along with it. He moved like he was born to do this. His hips and shoulders looked fluid as he did a strange sort of shimmy that looked down right delectable. There was no doubt that if Keith hadn't been staring at him from the doorway he would be able to see the way Lance's abs rolled along with the music inside his head, or how his lips formed the words easily with a confidence that could only be learned from years of doing it. The way his eyebrows knit together during certain words and how he'd shake his head left and right to the beat. 

If Keith was denying his feelings before he sure as hell wasn't anymore. 

"Hey mullet, you gonna come in or just judge me from afar?" Lance said.

Keith jumped at the sudden words, another thing that would go unnoticed if I was not such a ruthless narrator. Remember that folks.

"I wasn't judging you." He mumbled, scuffling forward into Lance's line of sight. "I was just watching." 

"Like that's not just as creepy, Samurai." He said, pouring some weird blue liquid into some space measuring cup. 

Keith pointed a, surprisingly, un-gloved finger at the strange liquid. "What the hell is that?"

Lance seemed to smirk. Or at least tried to with how tired he was. He had barely slept in days. 

"Hunk showed me how he makes some stuff that doesn't taste like food goo. This," He gestured to the measuring cup. "Is like a butter substitute. Less fattening although slightly more salty."

"Salty butter?"

"Butter has salt in it."

"No it doesn't."

"Does too."

"No."

"Yeah."

Keith gave up. it was too early (late? whatever) for this. He was a short tempered person in general, he didn't need some bone-head like Lance telling him that butter had salt in it at ass-crack in the morning. Even if said bone-head was cute. Which he was, of course. But that was besides the point. Keith wasn't about to let some stupid space induced crush turn him into a female protagonist of an 80's rom com. He wasn't a damsel in distress and he didn't need cute Latino boys with eyes the color of a sea at noon and lean muscle that he had slowly gained while being in space. Not to mention he was a fighter pilot for a bit, so he could take things fast and hard.

Nope. Not gonna think about that. No sir. Not Keith Kogane. He is a good, pure, soul.

Who was he kidding. He couldn't even fool a narrator from another universe. 

"Whatever. Butter has salt now and the sky is orange." Keith said, trying to hide his red ears. 

"The last planet we were on had an orange sky." Lance pointed out, pouring a small bit of milk into the container he was making.

Keith couldn't follow whatever recipe he was following. He had a soft smile on his face, his eyes relaxed but tired. He was remembering something, that much was sure. He barely had to look down at the sticky notes he had on mis-matched containers. A mixture of English and Altean words for what each thing was messily scrawled out in Hunk's handwriting.

Maybe it was because it was so early or the fact that Keith almost crashed Red earlier. Maybe it was the fact that Lance had the last bowl of goo that morning or he had stretched different before their training. Who knows. Whatever it was, it was making Lance make sense. He seemed smarter, sharper. There was a light teasing tone in his voice as he stated facts. He didn't even seem bothered by the fact that the had started to bicker. It was messing Keith up. 

"What's up with you?"

Lance finally looked up, confusion in those gorgeous eyes. "Ha?"

"What's up with you." He said it like Lance had contracted some sort of space coy disease from Kultenecker. "Since when do you not make fun of me when I act like an idiot? Or actually make sense?"

Lance looked at him for a moment. A solid blank moment. Then he started to laugh. 

Not the small chuckle kind either. His lips pealed back and his chest shook. His eyes waters and he snorted every couple of seconds. It was loud, grating, obnoxious, and extra. It was endearing, adorable, and perfect. Keith loved it.

Finally, when Lance had calmed down a bit, he answered Keith's question. "I guess I just feel free right now? I don't know how to explain it." He looked down at the bowl in his hands. "When everyone else is here I feel like I have to be someone, you know? Not like they're forcing me to or anything, nothing like that. I just don't want to let them down. Like I have to be this strong, funny, optimistic paladin all the time or the whole universe is going to fall apart." He looked over at Keith. 

Holy fuck. Holy fuck fuck fuck-

Lance had the softest smile on his face. His eyes were open and vulnerable, eyebrows tilted just right. His cheeks were red and so were his ears. He was chuckling softly under his breath at the awkwardness he must feel. 

It made Keith's heart skip a beat. Oh shit he was in deep. 

"I guess I just don't feel that way when it's just the two of us."

Well. That did it. Keith is dead. Start the tears and the rotting and what-not. Keith was dead on his feet. His headstone would read, "Keith Kogane, died of intimacy".

"God, sorry that was so weird." Lance said, his whole face flushing pink now. It made his freckles stand out. "I didn't mean to get all deep on you there. It just seemed like the moment, I guess? Just ignore me."

"No." Keith said before he could think about it. Impulse. That's what his headstone read. Keith died of his lack of fucking impulse control. "Um, no. It wasn't weird." He gulped, feeling it move like concrete down his throat. "I thought it was sweet."

Oh God now he was blushing. It wasn't hot enough in the castle to blame the heat. He didn't hurt himself. Lance was gonna find out about his stupid crush. He was done for. Finished. He could hear the Mortal Combat voice in his head telling him he was basically dead. 

"Thanks, Keith."

That was it. Nothing other than two words that he had been told thousands of times. Yet, somehow with the magic of gay, they made his heart soar. 

Fucking gay magic and it's innate ability to kill a fragile soul.

"Right mullet." Lance said, reaching his arms up and stretching his back. (Don't look don't look don't look don't look don't look don't look). "I just accidentally threw onions into my cookies so I'm gonna toss this out and try to get some sleep." He said, smiling at Keith with a hint of his Lance-ness back. 

"Yeah. Okay." Keith said, desperate not to sound too awkward. 

"Did you need something?" 

So many things. God yes. A hug. Just hold his hand please. Anything. 

"Uhh..."

"You came to the kitchen for a reason, right? Not just to flirt with the bowls?" Lance winked at him, a casual finger gun thrown his way. 

Sharpshooter my ass. He missed the head by a mile. You're not supposed to aim for his fucking pulse point.

"Just a-" Think fast, Kogane. What did you come here for.

Keith knew exactly what he came for. He was tired and wanted to see Lance again. That was it. Just the two of them in such an intimate environment that it was almost suffocating. But he couldn't say that. Not in a million years. Keith was impulsive, not stupid.

"A walk. Clear my head." Keith said it like it was nothing, shrugging his shoulders.

"I guess you better get those steps in. You know nothing else is ever going to make us work out." Lance said sarcastically, scarping the last of his onion cookies into the trash. 

Keith snickered and nodded even though Lance couldn't see him. This adorable boy and his humor. 

Lance turned back towards Keith, a lopsided smile on his lips. "Well I'm gonna hit the hay before Allura kills me tomorrow for not keeping up." He pat Keith's shoulder as he walked out of the room. "Night man."

"Night." Keith said. 

If Allura killed Lance, what would they write on his headstone? Killed my aliens? Or maybe it would be murder by falling in love. 

One could only hope.


End file.
